


Sound in Silence

by Serpents_Cradle (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, It Sucks, Original Character(s), Spooky, just kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Serpents_Cradle
Summary: Robert chuckled, eyes drifting to the frail looking girl in the front row. She wet her lips as she shook, nodding and bringing a delicately shaven reed to her lips. As Robert's smile grew, the room slowly filled with the sound of a perfect Concert A and the light above his head shattered.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was my October Challenge for English 11 Honors. Don't feel the need to be gentle.
> 
> (I don't like how this turned out, really, but Imma post it anyways)
> 
> Based off a campfire story my director told us. Message me on tumblr if you wanna hear it!

Bright and Abrasive florescent lights shone down upon Robert de Cross's side, casting dark shadows on his face that highlighted the bags under his eyes. The man turned to the bright white, padded room with icy blue eyes, lips curling back to reveal a secretive grin as he raised his arms and spoke.

"Hello, third period. Welcome to class. Please turn to page 8 in your lesson books, and Chelsea, if you don't mind..."

The lights in the room seemed to flicker lightly for a few moments as precisely sixty-seven terrified, greyish blue eyes appeared. Each pair slowly gained a translucent color, and ghosting bodies joined the eyes in time, their calves and stomachs seemingly tied to the backs and legs of their seats respectively with an invisible rope.

Robert chuckled, eyes drifting to the frail looking girl in the front row. She wet her lips as she shook, nodding and bringing a delicately shaven reed to her lips. As Robert's smile grew, the room slowly filled with the sound of a perfect Concert A and the light above his head shattered.

\-----------------------------------

The patients at the Claramont Mental Hospital had long complained about the strange man's strange music. It wasn't very good, they said, someone take the poor man's iPod away for God's sake, but none of the staff could find even a phone in the padded room.

But, nonetheless, every day at 11:37, the whines and moans would start up when the first pitch was played. It seemed the only day they would get a break was on Saturdays, when the hall was eerily quiet for the entire day.

Mr. de Cross was admitted into the hospital a few months back after reports of "deranged behavior" at the school he used to teach at. Robert was a strange man, but every child in his Orchestra classes loved him and his quirkiness. Robert de Cross was the kind of teacher parents baked cookies for. 

Every period except for second, Robert lead his students in rehearsal for an hour and a half, but he was also a professional trombonist who had even sat in with the National Symphony before.

However, in a sick turn of events, Chancellor Morris High School suffered a gruesome school shooting that left Mr. de Cross's entire Symphonic Wind Ensemble dead and landed its conductor in a coma for three days. However, once he was off of his Sick Leave, he still seemed to conduct his third period band every day.

Naturally, the public soon found out about Robert's 'mental instability', and after one too many letters from upset parents, the school board decided to let him go. They had been planning to cut his funding for years, and now there'd be no problem doing so.

The man who attacked the school was never found, but some people had their doubts as the if it was just some random man. However, only Robert de Cross survived, and he was .

But, Robert soon slipped off the deep end, trying to kill himself twice in a month and causing his family to move him to Claramont. And still, the cacophony continued, squeaks of clarinets to cracks from Trumpets for one and a half hours every day from his room.

Robert cut Chelsea off with a close of his fist, smiling serenely at the ghostly youth in front of him. His icy eyes slid closed and he finally shed his human skin, letting himself fall into eternal, blissful nothingness. Stood upon a shining silver podium in Carnegie Hall. Watched as the sad faces of the children turned happy and their coloring returned. Raised his baton.

As Robert de Cross began to conduct, and he was found dead on the floor of his padded cell, stabbed through the chest with an ice cold Selmer Oboe. His wife's, Chelsea de Cross.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at @gossamerwings-and-angelthings on tumblr!


End file.
